


The Seasons Will Change Us New

by ranchelhensley



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Artist Louis, Bakery, Café, Christmas, Friends to Lovers, It’s good I promise, M/M, No Smut, Painting, Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Strangers to Lovers, The Beatles - Freeform, Warm, Winter, fall - Freeform, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:14:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27702613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranchelhensley/pseuds/ranchelhensley
Summary: “I hope we dance tonightBefore we get it wrongAnd the seasonsWill change us new, but you’re the best I’ve knownAnd you know me, I could not be stuck on youIf it weren’t true.”-3 Rounds and a Sound, Blind PilotLouis Tomlinson is a struggling artist who breaks off his engagement after a certain realization hits him. He leaves his home in Delaware to stay in northern Indiana for a while while he sorts his life out.Harry Styles owns a small cafe called “Bleecker Street Coffee” and lives in an apartment above it.The two meet, Louis moves in above Harry. They grow close and eventually fall in love.(I suck at summaries but hopefully this doesn’t drive you away lol.)
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 11





	The Seasons Will Change Us New

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anyone who needs it :)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Anyone+who+needs+it+%3A%29).



The Seasons Will Change Us New

Martha My Dear

3 November 2020  
Whoever Finds This,

Hey. Or, I guess I should say goodbye. I'm not telling you where I'm off to, although I'm sure you will find me somehow. I don't love Eleanor, never have. There is something wrong with me, I can't love her, even if I tried. So I'm leaving. To find myself. Maybe I'll be home for Christmas, maybe not. We'll just have to wait and see. 

Yours,  
Louis 

Louis placed the scrap of paper on the kitchen table, his engagement ring on top. He grabbed his suitcase, slung his backpack over his shoulder, then he walked out the door. In this he knew he was not only leaving the house he grew up in. Louis was leaving his family, his comfort, his life as he knew it. 

At the age of twenty four, Louis had finally come to terms with the fact that he was not in love with his fiancée, Eleanor. She was a lovely young woman, with gorgeous dark chocolate hair, a youthful complexion, and the approval of Louis' parents. But Louis did not love her. Throughout the six years he had known Eleanor, he continually convinced himself he did. He's not sure exactly how or when the idea was conceived, all that mattered was that Louis finally figured it out. As the master of words Oscar Wilde once wrote, "the truth is rarely pure and never simple." And the truth was this: Louis Tomlinson could never love a woman. At least, not how he was supposed to. 

Being a non confrontational person, Louis decided it was best to get away from his home in Delaware for a while. He remembered visiting his grandmother in northern Indiana a handful of times as a child, so he thought it good to go there. Of course the old woman had since passed, but it would still be nice to be somewhat familiar with his temporary home for the next few months. The beginning of November was admittedly not the best time to leave everything behind, what with the holidays coming up. Louis just didn't know if he could take it anymore, pretending to be someone he wasn't. 

That's how he found himself driving past the obnoxious "Welcome to Indiana" sign in the middle of the night. It was dark and quiet, the only light coming from the headlights of other cars on the highway. Louis had driven past a few exits, tempted to stop for food, but all he really wanted was to get to a hotel as soon as possible so he could sleep. At around two in the morning the young man spotted a hotel that seemed safe and clean enough for the night and pulled into the parking lot. As tired as he was, he just grabbed his backpack and headed inside, stepping up to the front desk.

"Can I help you?" a very dull woman asked, with no hint of real concern in her voice. 

"Um, yeah, actually. I need a room for tonight," Louis tried not to sound half asleep as he pushed the words out. 

Once he was done talking to the woman at the front desk and had gotten to his hotel room, Louis toed his shoes off and got into bed. It felt so good to lay down after such a long day of driving, he fell asleep within minutes.

...

Louis awoke the next morning to a sea of sunlight flooding through the too-sheer curtains. He groaned and rubbed the sleep away from his eyes, then reached over to the night stand to check the time on his phone. The bright screen told Louis it was 8:17. He felt his stomach begging for food, as he hadn't eaten dinner the day before. Throwing the covers off of his body, Louis sat up on the hotel bed and swung his legs over the side to rest his feet on the floor. The aching of his spine made it evident that he had picked a pretty cheap hotel, and the beds were not very comfortable at all. Louis stood up and slipped his dirty white Vans on, deciding to check out the hotel breakfast. 

As soon as he stepped into the lobby Louis was hit by a bouquet of fragrances, ranging from mediocre bacon to barely-above-room-temperature scrambled eggs. Sure, it wasn't gourmet, but it was food. Louis filled up a plate with jelly on toast, fruit, and a mystery-flavored muffin. There was nearly no one in the breakfast area, so he had free range on where to sit. He settled down at a small table with only two chairs and began stuffing his face. 

After finishing breakfast, Louis returned to his hotel room and started planning his day. He needed to find somewhere to stay, he knew couldn't bear this dirty hotel for much longer. He knew he was going to be in Indiana for quite some time, he wanted to be away from his family long enough to sort his life out. A place to live and food to survive would cost money, so he also needed to look for some sort of job. Back in Delaware, Louis' parents paid for everything. Yeah, it might sound a little pathetic, but Louis had lived with his parents all his life. As a struggling artist, it was nearly impossible to support himself completely, and his parents were more than happy to keep another child "in the nest", as his mother put it. Louis had four little sisters, two of which were in college, away from home. The other two, the twins, were still in high school. Louis loved them all with his whole heart. They always made him feel so loved and appreciated. Every year for their birthdays he would paint whatever they wanted him to. He loved doing those kinds of things for the girls, he felt like it connected them in such a personal way. Every Christmas Louis and his sisters would spend the whole day baking, then eating everything they baked, then complaining that they shouldn't have eaten so much. This year, however, they would bake without him. In the letter he left, Louis said that he might be home for Christmas, but that was a lie. In all honesty, Louis did not know when the next time he would see his family was. He just couldn't be around them right now. 

A loud ringing snapped Louis out of his thoughts. He searched around the hotel room until he found his phone, only to find he was getting a call from "Likely Spam". He declined the call, then tucked his phone into the pocket of his black sweatpants. He walked to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. After his mouth was all fresh and minty, Louis raked his fingers through his messy brown hair. There was really no point in styling it as it just did whatever it wanted, so he used his thumb and pointer finger to lightly brush it across his forehead until it looked a little bit decent. After he swiped some deodorant on, he pulled his phone out of his pocket to see what time it was. The screen read 9:42 am, and Louis decided he would check out of the hotel at 10:00. 

The young man shoved all his belongings back into the backpack and hurriedly made the bed, even though room service would probably just redo it anyway. Once he double checked that he had everything and was ready to get going, he made his way to the front desk to check out. He took in a big breath, the scent of bleach and coffee filling his nose. Not the most welcoming smell, but it's what is to be expected from a crappy hotel. Louis noticed the floor was a bit sticky, and each time he picked up his feet to take a step there was a quiet noise like Velcro being pulled apart. When it was eventually Louis' turn to step up to the counter, he noticed the same bleak woman from the night before.

"Checking out?" Her voice was lifeless and condescending.

Despite the creaky bed, sub-par breakfast, distasteful odor, and unfriendly service, Louis was feeling well rested for the day ahead. Needless to say, he was eager for some pleasant experiences.

Louis threw his backpack in the passenger seat and started his car. The radio began playing some overrated pop song as Louis drove into town.

It was almost exactly as he remembered it. The overgrown landscaping, wobbly sidewalks, even the dry fountain in the park that had not operated in a decade remained waiting for repair. As he got closer to downtown Louis rolled down his windows. The old bread factory made the whole town smell like a bakery, so Louis' nose was invaded by bread and rain. 

The only parking available downtown was parallel, much to Louis' disliking, but he eventually ended up in what he was pretty sure was a parking spot. He pulled the key out of the ignition and unbuckled his seatbelt. Once he made sure there were no cars coming, Louis opened the car door and stepped out onto the faded pavement, shut the door, and locked the car. 

With his hands tucked away in the pocket of his sweatshirt, Louis started on the sidewalk, passing dozens of old shops. After walking for a few minutes he spotted a welcoming record store and decided to step inside. As Louis pulled the glass door open a bell rang overhead, causing a rugged-looking man to smile in his direction. The man looked back down and Louis started making his way through the store. Bob Dylan was playing on the speakers, offering a warm atmosphere. There were old records and new records, even some that held movie soundtracks. On one of the side walls were what seemed like a million posters. Some were signed, others were not. The intimidating faces of the rock and pop stars drew Louis to think about his career as a painter. Would people ever like his art as much as they liked The Beatles' art? Or would he die a failure and be forgotten within a couple generations? Many artists are unappreciated until after they die, but how will Louis know if people find value in him if he is dead? Bob Dylan finished his song and Louis felt his stomach rumble, asking for food. 

Back on the sidewalk, Louis walked a little longer in search of somewhere that might have a decent cup of tea and some sort of snack. The sound of laughter was heard a little ahead of him, and he looked up to see a group of teenage girls leaving a café. Outside of the café was a set up of orange and white pumpkins, dark red mums, and a bucket of sunflowers. Louis tilted his head back to view a sign above him that read "Bleecker Street Coffee".

Louis opened the door and stepped inside, immediately feeling a wave of warmth. He looked around to see about a dozen people with smiles on their faces and mugs in their hands, all engaged in conversations with whomever they were sat with. Louis inhaled through his nose, filling it with the scent of coffee and vanilla. He stepped into the short line, standing behind a woman in a bright yellow pea coat, then studied the menu. Everything was written on a chalkboard in different colors of chalk, but with no evident color-coding. Louis smiled when he glanced at the pastry display case and saw a vintage record player on top, playing some old song he did not know. All the walls were painted different colors, olive green, golden yellow, navy blue, and a deep, rich shade of red. The tables and chairs were mis-matched like they had all been purchased at different times from various places. Louis already knew he would like to spend a lot of time here. He wanted to plant himself in one of the soft leather sofas in the back corner and let himself take root so he could breathe in the friendly air forever. 

A voice shook Louis from his thoughts, and he looked up to see a pair of soft emerald eyes set on him in a curious expression. "What can I get for you today?" the man's voice was rich and deep, much like the red color of the wall behind him. 

"Oh, sorry. I haven't even looked at the menu yet," Louis chuckled an apology.

"Well then, I recommend the Spiced Chai Latte. If you like chai, that is," the man smiled at Louis. He had one of those smiles that radiates hospitality, like he wanted to know everything possible about every person he met. He was wearing black jeans and an oversized navy blue crew neck, a white t-shirt underneath. Large hands branched out into long, delicate fingers. Cuffed sleeves revealed slivers of the man's pale ivory wrists. On top of his head was a mess of dark umber brown curls. Above his eyes sat a pair of thick, but well shaped, eyebrows. He was beautiful in the way that he looked like a statue Michelangelo might have made, or he could easily fit into the background of a renaissance-era painting. 

"Uh, yeah. I like chai. I'll have that and uh," Louis studied the glass pastry case for something he would enjoy. "Can I have a cinnamon muffin?"

"For sure! That'll be..." the man punched some buttons on the register before meeting Louis' eyes again, "$6.24."

Louis pulled his wallet out of his pocket and fished for a $10 bill. Once he had it, he handed it over to the Adonis behind the counter. "You can keep the change," he offered with a smile that was hopefully friendly rather than awkward. 

"Thank you so much, I really appreciate that. Can I get your name?" Louis was confused for a moment why this man would want his name, but he soon realized it was for his order. Upon this realization he felt a hint of disappointment, although he was not sure why.

"Louis," he offered. The beautiful man smiled thoughtfully at that before directing Louis over to where he should wait for his latte. 

Now standing a few feet away at the pickup area, Louis found himself glancing over at the man, wishing he had known his name. Louis watched as his curls hung over his eyes like a chocolate curtain while he looked down making Louis' drink. His eyebrows crowded close to each other as he concentrated on his skillful hands. Louis guessed he was still in college, maybe around 21 years old. He had a young complexion, despite his mature features. People often attribute timeless beauty to names like Audrey Hepburn and James Dean, but Louis thought a photo of this man he was watching belonged next to the definition in Webster's dictionary. 

Now that he was farther away from Adonis, Louis could see just how tall he was. His arms were long, they would probably graze the floor if they just grew a couple of inches. A fit torso was supported by legs that went on for miles. Louis had noticed how tall the man was when he was ordering, he just assumed he was stood on a platform or something. The man looked over in Louis' direction so he quickly averted his eyes so as to not be caught staring. 

"Do you want that muffin heated?" he inquired. Louis would not admit if the way the full voice blew like a warm breeze into his ears, melting his senses into a puddle down by his toes made him blush.

"Yes please."

A cool breeze caused Louis to shiver, he turn his head to see a jolly old lady walking into the shop. She carried a tan grocery tote with flowers spilling over the top. The yellow and orange and red colors of the flowers complimented her warm smile perfectly. On top of her short gray hair sat a knitted hat that Louis assumed was homemade. She seemed like one of those grandmothers that always stuffed her grandchildren with gooey chocolate chip cookies and banana bread. 

"Louis?" his name was called. "Spiced chai latte and a cinnamon muffin."

"Thank you!" Louis picked up his order from the counter with a smile and snuck another look into the curly man's eyes. They were so stunningly green, it was hard to look away. After a few more seconds than usually socially acceptable, Louis broke his gaze and searched for a place to sit at. He spotted an oddly shaped table with only one chair, above it was displayed an impressive abstract portrait of an unknown person. Careful not to spill his hot beverage out of its lavender mug, Louis strode to the table and squatted to sit in the chair. Yes, his spot was within earshot and had a clear view of Adonis, but Louis was not willing to think about whether that was intentional. 

"Good morning Harry! It's so good to see you," the jolly old lady was greeting the man as he stepped around the counter to embrace her in a hug. 

Harry. The name fit him well. 

"I have missed you and your floral gifts, Barbara! The sunflowers out front are struggling a bit in this chilly weather," Harry offered in his deep red voice. "What have you brought me today?"

The woman, Barbara, shimmied the tote down her arm and opened it wide to show off the collection of flowers.


End file.
